DA The McDowell Books: One: Deal With It
by 00Tyler00
Summary: Twelve years after Freak Nation...centered around the ups and downs of Alec and Max's turbulent family. Deal With It: When a newbie's itch screws up a major online heist, Terminal City's Internet is cut. Alec and Max must deal with the unexpected result


Max purred softly as she felt the smooth yet deadly tingle of Alec's jaw nuzzle hers as he enveloped her in a hug from behind – one of those 'I love you, good morning' hugs he had given her every time they slept together for the last thirteen years

The McDowell Books

By Tyler

(www.tylersdarkangel.)

Disclaimer: DA and all its characters are the property of James Cameroon. The infant characters of Brac and Nyx were originally created in a fic by Valjean.

Basic Outline: Set fourteen years after Freak Nation. Max and Alec have been partners for twelve years, still living in a largely-functional and swelling Terminal City. The Familiars are no longer at large although they still hunt transgenics with a passion. The world view on transgenics is now officially tolerant, although a great deal of the ex-Manticore creations still choose to reside in TC to live their lives free of discrimination. Max and Alec are largely still the heads of operation at TC, and balance their work lives with the raising of their two children, Brac (12) and Nyx (11).

Book One in the McDowell series: When a green computer techie's eagerness results in Terminal City losing their Internet, Max and Alec work to solve the crisis…and deal with the unexpected results. Rated R for language.

Deal With It

Max purred softly as she felt the smooth yet deadly tingle of Alec's jaw nuzzle hers as he enveloped her in a hug from behind – one of those 'I love you, good morning' hugs he had given her every time they slept together for the last twelve years. It was one of those small, almost fleeting, yet firm and resolute declarations of Alec's love for her that still made her knees go wonky when the X5 would stalk into the room with his usual smart-aleck air of 'I'm here now'.

It was all a front, Max knew that now. Alec's swagger and bravado was 90 percent sarcasm on his part, a very well-constructed and superbly-maintained front to hide the massive insecurity issues that had plagued him the entirety of his life. His family had helped him overcome a good deal of that – Max, Brac, Nyx – even O.C, who still insisted on calling Alec 'boo' after fifteen years.

Max found herself frowning involuntarily at the next thought which hit her as she snuggled up to Alec's deliciously toned arm thrown over her waist.

Alec's false veneer was also one of the things that Brac really, really disliked about his sire.

Max didn't have time to pursue that train of thought. Her mate had already caught onto her scowl, and he drummed his fingers against her hip softly, the scent of his musk cologne still fresh from the night before.

"Stop thinkin' about him, Maxie."

"Thinking about what?" Max responded nonchalantly, as she twisted her head up to plant a pillow-lipped kiss on Alec's mouth. It almost had the disarming affect she had planned on. Alec smiled – that grin had stayed the same for the last fourteen years, Max noted. Wait, so had that frown.

"Stop thinking about _who_," Alec corrected her grammar teasingly, and then his face became serious once more, "Stop thinking about Brac. I can handle sharing you with our kids all day long, Maxie, but I distinctly remember informing you that our bed was sacred."

Max had to stifle a laugh at the idea of Alec being jealous of sharing his bed with his son at the moment, and almost made a remark about it, but as she looked into Alec's bright green eyes which were narrowed slightly, she realized that something was amiss.

"Alec," she spoke softly, cautiously, sitting up and leaning back on her elbows to face him, "What are you not telling me?"

His eyes shifted and his face contorted into an expression of amused bewilderment, "I…think you're still the damn sexiest transgenic on the planet? But Maxie, really, I tell you that almost every morning and I don't think it's fair for you to get on my case if I miss it just one time!" Alec was sniggering as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, swinging his arms in a stretch and causing the muscles in his back to ripple. Max would have been distracted by the show, but she had also worked up a means of resisting her mate's attempts to change the subject.

"Alec, I mean it. What's the deal?" She queried, putting on a sterner tone of voice as she reached over and grabbed her tank top which lay on the bedside table. Then she rolled her eyes – of course, Alec would have to have to torn it off her the night before. That was man was entirely too impatient.

Alec pursed his lips, decidedly unpleased, "Max, can you please not use your 'mom' voice on me? I have a hard time keepin' a straight face when you pull it on the kids."

"Come on, Alec." Max stood up, fumbling for another shirt which she pulled over her head after adjusting her bra. Her breasts seemed to have shrunk somehow, and she didn't like it. Alec insisted that it was due to her losing weight after a harrowing month sorting out a batch of unruly newcomers to TC. Nyx had informed her mother with a knowing air that she needed more red meat in her diet. Brac had made a face and curtly requested that his parents refrain from discussing each other's body parts around him.

That was Brac.

"You're doin' it again." Alec's blunt proclamation shattered Max's train of thought, and she rolled her eyes as she pulled on a pair of trousers – also a little looser then they should be, she thought.

"I'm thinking about what's taking you so long to tell me what the hell's up." Max retorted as she threw the covers over their double bed and tucked them in at the sides in one smooth move. Alec's frown was barely perceptible. Max knew he hated how she kept everything so orderly – something about not wanting his bed to remind him of his bunk back at Manticore.

"The kids." He responded to her statement, and Max's ears pricked up to the sound of Nyx knocking on the bathroom door and demanding that Brac put a shimmy on it.

"I've got training at 10, you no-good hairbrain!" The eleven-year-old, second-generation X5 was a picture of her mother's dark beauty – and had the attitude to match.

The problem was that Brac was a spitting retake of his dad – in more ways then one.

"Wait it out, sweetheart, or make use of that cat-DNA excuse of yours again and take a piss outside!" He responded through the door.

"Hey!" Alec called out sharply, and Nyx's banging ceased for a moment. Then deadly silence reigned.

Max raised her eyebrows and ran to the kitchen, Alec on her heels, still pulling a t-shirt over his head. The X5s reached the bathroom just in time to find Nyx putting the finishing touches on the lock she had picked.

"What are you doing?" Max crinkled up her nose in disgust, "Do you really want the nightmare of seeing Brac naked?"

"I'll just avert my gaze." Nyx stated, wholly unabashed at the fact that her mom had just caught her picking the bathroom lock – a practice strictly banned amongst their family on grounds of morality (although Alec, of course, frequently pulled it on Max when she showered, then faked that the door had already been open.)

"I have to get a move on!" Nyx excused herself from Max's disbelieving glare, "Gem's got us sparring with the X7s this morning, and being late is the first sign of weakness as far as she's concerned!" Her hand strayed to the door handle.

"Don't. Don't even." Max warned her off, reaching out and yanking her daughter's hand off, "I'll get him out of there, I promise." She added, recognizing the look of frustration in Nyx's dark eyes – it was exactly like her own. "Just get dressed and eat, okay?"

"What are you havin', Nyx?" Alec queried from his position behind the counter of their kitchen. He was the undisputed cook of the family, although Brac was fast picking up the talent, and both he and Alec had collectively banned Nyx and Max from preparing any meal that either of the boys would end up having to eat.

Alec was rummaging around in the cupboards as he continued, "Scotch on the rocks? Dry Martini? Pina Colada"

"Sex on the Beach?" Nyx responded jokingly, and Alec paused with a scowl.

"How about we just stick with juice for now?"

Nyx opened her mouth to retort when the door received a sturdy knock. Max glanced over at Alec, who shrugged as he got the coffee filter going.

"Must be Mole. I asked him to drop by with an update on the nerd herd."

"I wish you'd stop calling them that." Max responded sharply as she sauntered to the door and took a glance through the peephole, "Dix has made it very clear that he doesn't appreciate it, and neither does Luke."

"Well I ain't talkin' about those two." Was Alec's dry response, and Max rolled her eyes. Alec had a pure, unadulterated dislike of computers…well all things mechanical really. Except for guns. They did what they were told – unless you were a rookie and the kick-back threw your aim askew.

"Whatever. Just yours and Mole's mouths can get real mean when the two of you are in company." Max's statement was more like a warning then she had intended it to be, but she knew Alec would just chew the proverbial meat and spit out the bones. He always did – expect he usually spewed a lot of the meat out as well and put it all down to Max's exaggeration tendencies or PMS.

Sometimes he really didn't take things seriously. Or if he did, he chose to ignore them anyway. That was Alec for you…

And Brac, now that she thought about it.

Max forced the cold shudder that had suddenly coursed through her spine to leave off, and pasted on a smile as Mole traipsed into their apartment, his trademark rifle slung over his shoulder and the cigar in his mouth puffing out a waft of smoke.

"'sup, Max?" The nomalie's stony expression did little to belie the warm undercurrent in his voice. Twelve years had done little to change Mole – had done little to change them all, in fact. Transgenics aged slowly, and even then, with their 'genetic empowerment' as Alec had once so graciously dubbed it, the X-series were hitting their thirties with the mature vivacity and damn good looks that they had possessed in smaller quantities at a younger age.

"Hey Mole," Max smiled and pressed her hand in his lightly before turning and nodding at Alec, who dipped his head at Mole.

"Mole, please tell me the geek squad down in central has something to show for the cash we fed into that project of theirs, cuz I'm gettin' riots on my hands down this end of TC about the budget slash." Alec motioned to the steaming coffee he was pouring, "Want some, buddy"

"Seems to me like you're doin' fine in the food department at least." Mole waved a hand dismissively as he threw himself into one of the dining table chairs and took a puff of his cigar. "Dix wanted me to let ya know they found the files, but their IP was pinned before they could start the download and the goddamned ordinary automaton pulled the plug on our Internet."

"You're kidding!" Alec bashed the counter and opened his mouth to utter an obscenity, but caught himself as he remembered that his daughter was present. Instead he settled on sending a particularly mordant glower Mole's way. "I thought we had walls up against these kinds of things! Dix's never had a problem with hacks bein' intercepted before!"

"Well apparently Dix wasn't on this one." Mole shrugged as he stroked the butt of his rifle lovingly, "Some newbie hack was havin' a shot at the thing to prove his worth and all that shit, and then…"

"What was a newbie doing assigned to a job like that in the first place?" Max demanded, completely understanding the look of utter frustration on Alec's face. The transgenic team of hackers had been begging for funding to pull a major heist on a database in the South Pacific. Apparently a corrupt multi-billionare by the name of Errol Hurst had had his goons collecting info on any genetic freaks in the area and filing them all up in a database which Hurst was rumoured to be selling to the Familiars as soon as it was complete.

Dix and Luke had been the first to happen on the scheme and the first to insist that they could rip the database off of Hurst with the right hardware and software – but it would take money to get those things, of course. And Alec had given in to their pleading after Max had supported the idea both with her words and a fat wad of cash that she had just scored through 'totally legitimate means'.

"Oh he wasn't assigned, he just went on ahead and 'proved his worth'." Mole chewed at the end of his cigar grimly, "Anyhow, Dix is on it but it's gonna be a while before we get our Internet back."

"How long?" Max queried, and Mole's answer set her lips into a tight pout of indignation.

"Dix said a week to ten days if we're lucky, a month if we ain't."

"A month?" The voice belonged to Brac, and he was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, his toothbrush in one hand and his towel in the other, his blonde, spike hair still wet from a shower, and his eyes narrowed into angry slits.

"A month without Internet?" Brac repeated, and the devastation ringing in his voice would have made Alec burst out laughing any other day.

Instead, Alec pursed his lips and narrowed his eyebrows, "You'll live, Brac." He directed the next part of his statement at Mole and Max, "I'm just so damn itchy to know the identity of our resident Neo-wannabe!"

Mole threw back his head and laughed, "Can't tell ya that, Alec ol' buddy. Dix promised the kid some sort of sanctuary from the palpable wrath of Mr and Mrs McDowell in exchange for a lifetime of servitude to Dix's maniacal cyber impulses. Apparently the kid's got skills."

"Uh huh, skills like fryin' our goddamn Internet connection!" Brac quipped, evidently still pissing blood about the idea of being parted from his precious addiction for even a smidgeon of the said month.

"Watch your mouth." Alec raised his eyebrows and pointed a finger at his son momentarily before moving to stand over Mole. "Now Mole, ol' buddy," He pasted on his trademark smirk which had parted legs and brought in the dosh for as long as he could remember, "you, uh, sure you don't want to cough up that information for me?" The smirk widened into a full-fledged smile, and Max rolled her eyes, "Cuz you know, I could make it worth your while!"

"Explain." Mole didn't bat an eyelid. He had proximity issues, Alec knew that. Why the hell was the punk-ass kid standing over him like that? Mole wasn't about to show how tense Alec was making him feel. Instead he took a drag on his cigar and then pointedly billowed out the smoke in Alec's direction.

"You're runnin' out of them puffers, aren't ya, ol' pal?" Alec queried with a knowing toss of his head, and Mole's eyebrows narrowed.

Damn that Alec. He always seemed to know which nerve to pinch.

"Maybe I am." Mole drawled in response, and Alec sniffed satisfactorily. The X5 held up a finger and then disappeared into his room, returning shortly with a wooden box.

Max rolled her eyes and turned to check on the kid's progress, stalking into the hallway and muttering to herself about how low Alec was willing to stoop for an occasion to knock some of the sense he had never possessed into some other unwitting soul.

Their three-bedroomed apartment was cosy, and as close to a home as Max had ever felt anything to be. Sure, the floorboards had needed changing, and that annoying corner of the wall in Nyx's bedroom still got damp every single winter. The tap also leaked…but it was home.

"Mom!"

Max leant in the doorway of Nyx's room, pausing to smile at the orange and purple tapestry which her daughter had hung up to cover the mouldy wall. It was hideous, both Alec and Brac had determined from the moment they laid eyes on it, and Alec had tried all of his tactics to persuade his daughter that the green goo creeping up her wall could be classed as contemporary art. It hadn't worked, evidently.

"I just wanted to make sure you knew that Dad said I could break Jinn's hand if he put it anywhere near my ass again – because we're sparring with his class today and I just know one of us is going to end up with a cast somewhere on our body!" Nyx was zipping up her boots (she was outgrowing them, Max noted) with a smouldering scowl on her face that mirrored the one her mother threw in the direction of the kitchen at Nyx's proclamation.

"Well then Dad can answer the door when Jinn's older brother shows up to knock the crap out of someone!" Max responded with a jilting laugh as she handed Nyx her backpack, "I wouldn't pay to watch a fight that nasty."

"Grit's mental." Nyx frowned as she tied her long, dark hair up into a tight bun. "He's one of the 'true blues' as Dad calls'em. Two in three says Dad would just wind him up like a toy and then hang him up on the coat rack the way he does with Brac when his aggression issues crop up."

Max smirked and then patted Nyx on the shoulder as the two strode through the kitchen to the front door, where Mole was just getting ready to leave. Max looked from the nomalie to her boy – Alec's face was all quiet, smug satisfaction.

Great. Max forced a grin and punched Mole playfully in the shoulder, "You two are a terrible influence on each other."

"And then he complained about the juice." Alec's whining would be completely wasted on Max under normal circumstances – rolled off her like water off a duck's back most of the time. But for some reason, her mate's griping was for once getting into Max's head.

"The juice?" She crinkled her brow in the way that always made Alec want to pinch her cheeks and tell her how cute she was. Max killed the engine on her bike as Alec dismounted his Ninja and checked both his and Max's locks were secure. Terminal City wasn't home to gangs of roving thieves, but still, motorcycles of the calibre Alec and Max owned were like shiny bait that screamed 'ride me' to every joy-rider in sight.

"Yeah, he said it tasted fermented- said it was a crap brand to begin with and that the icing on the muffin was that our lifters didn't even have the…" Alec, clearly rankled yet amused, paused to recall the word, "…decorum to check the sell-by date." He shrugged his backpack further up his shoulders as they entered the TC main headquarters unnoticed.

"Decorum, Maxie – that was the exact word he used!"

Max rolled her eyes, "Alec, give it up! You're just wired cuz you've finally noticed that while you were off chasing honeys and fighting bad guys in your oh-so-manly way, Brac has developed a basic grasp of grammar and language skills, and you think he's gonna become a geek!" She plunked her backpack onto the table with a thud.

Alec let out a hissing breath of annoyance as he did likewise, unzipping his bag and leaning over to continue the conversation on a slightly lower pitch as a couple of X7s brushed past them.

"That's a sideline issue! What pissed me off was his ingratitude! I mean, Zit's gang sifted through reams of namebrands before they finally found one with enough 'bad guys' backing the produce before helpin' themselves! Back at Manticore, we lived off water and rations half the size of the plate Brac serves himself at dinner every night…"

"You're exaggerating, and we don't gauge how we raise our kids by how we were brought up at Manticore." Max lectured, as Dix approached them with wide eyes and (very fake) grin.

"Yeah well, a good ol' Renfro-cussin' out might not do Brac too much harm at the moment…Ow!" Alec's muttered retort was followed by a well-deserved slug to the shoulder from his mate as Max gave him a clear 'shut up' signal and turned to face Dix.

"Hey guys, what brings you down this end of TC?" Dix's high-pitched voice rang with nervousness, and Max noted with some amusement that the nomalie's eyes were shifting between the two X5s as though he wasn't sure which of them was going to try and hit him first.

Max stepped in front of Alec, who was wearing the token smirk he'd use when he was pissed off and being sarcastic about it, and had opened his mouth to whip up a verbal storm. Max intercepted it with a statement of her own.

"Mole stopped by this morning. Heard there was a…" She smiled tightly, "little fob-up with the Internet connection."

"Uh yeah about that," Dix motioned for them to follow up a staircase to the landing where the mainframes sat, each one with a tired, frazzled-looking transgenic at its helm, their fingers clacking away.

"Seems we should have Internet in about a week. Luke pulled a fast one on the block but it's a persistent little bitch." Dix stroked the keyboard of an unoccupied computer and it lit up compliantly. "We've located the programmes we were short on to perform the grand miracle of Operation Hurst." He pointed a gritty finger at the screen, which was displaying a number of 'error' pop-ups masking a download in progress which had halted. "Some kid got very close to halfway on the download before our IP was located."

"_Some kid_," Alec's tone was biting, "managed to screw us over for a week because he wanted to play God with our equipment."

"Alec," Max began, but he raised his eyebrows at her warningly, holding up a finger on one hand at her and pointing another one on the opposite hand at Dix.

"_Some kid_ ignored his orders and toyed around with a high-risk job package that…" Oh crap, the smirk was back, "I believe was not entrusted to him! _Some kid_…" Alec thrust the finger he was pointing at Dix in a sharp stab for emphasis, "Has managed to make my life miserable on three fronts; those being," He counted them out on three fingers, "dealing with fact that we most likely have to reshuffle our entire online presence…tryin' to figure out how to explain to TC's population how the only thing we have to show for the cutbacks I had to impose is that they now have no Internet…and attempting to interest my son in something other then his current computer addiction," Alec threw 'the smirk' Max's way, "which of course takes the word 'frustrating' to a whole new level."

Dix looked like he had no idea what to say. His shoulders sagged and he looked to Max desperately for some support. She sighed and raised her eyebrows with a shrug.

"Guess all we can do is cover our tracks and hope the wire gets up and running before we get all the pixel-hungry addicts picketing outside our house." Max gulped suddenly and looked over at Alec, wishing she hadn't even mentioned that little possibility. The glint in his green eyes was feral.

"I'll have it up by a week, Max; I can promise you!" Dix said eagerly, desperately, as he nodded his thanks before scuttling off to work.

Max turned to Alec, "Did you have to ride the guilt-trip on his ass? I'm sure he's feeling bad enough as it is!"

"Just makin' sure, Maxie." Was Alec's unmerciful response as they trotted out of the building and revved up their bikes. The ride home was a silent one.

Joshua sniffed the air around him and twisted around, carefully placing his paintbrush on the stool beside him in case things got physical. But when the nomalie caught sight of his silent visitor, he broke into a smile.

"Lil' Alec not doin' so hot?" He commented upon seeing the scowl pasted on Brac's face. The boy's eyes narrowed even deeper as he heard the nickname Joshua had tagged on him.

"Why do you still call me that, Big Fella?" Brac queried as he dug his fists deeper into his jacket pockets.

"Ah," Joshua responded sagely, "Because you look like Alec."

Brac rolled his eyes but didn't pursue the debate. Instead he strolled leisurely up to the painting which Joshua was currently working on, and tried to ignore the smell of terpentine that hung in the air.

"What are you paintin', Josh?"

"Painting someone Lil' Alec knows very well." Joshua responded with a slight smile as he picked up his brush and continued with his work, "A good friend – someone he wants to get close too."

"It doesn't _look_ like Stace." Brac frowned and then laughed, more to himself then to Joshua, who, knowing little about the boy's attraction to a svelte X6 who lived on his street, failed to get the joke.

"I dunno, Big Fella; it's just a bunch of colours to me."

"It is colours." Joshua responded approvingly, "Pretty colours…" He moved his fingers over a patch of beige, "Not dark inside anymore."

Brac raised an eyebrow and stared hard at the painting for a moment before he burst out laughing. "You got me, Josh. I give – who is it?"

"Lil' Alec wants this person to know him." Joshua tapped his brush against the side of the water cup and then dipped it in a pot of indigo paint, "But he's afraid."

"Of what?" Brac queried.

"Ah," Joshua shrugged, "of everything, inside of here." He motioned with a big hand at Brac's chest, "So much confusion. Thinks no one will understand the darkness inside him. But this one," Joshua grunted as he turned back to the painting, "had darkness inside too, once."

Brac pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow, truly curious by this time as to the identity of the depicted individual.

"Who is it, Josh?"

The large creature paused in his painting and glanced at the boy over his shoulder. "Ah," he said with a knowing smile, "Big Alec."

"I'm goin' down to the hall, Maxie." Alec called over his shoulder as he slung on his brown leather jacket and brushed a wet hand through his hair. Something about doing those two simple things was part of what had helped him to stay 100 percent Alec over the years.

"Mole's been getting cocky about handin' me my ass at pool last time and I intend to not only win my forty bucks back but make that lizard squeal while I do it!" He tucked his phone and keys into his pocket and reached up to the shelf for his hat. It was gone. Alec smiled. Nyx was getting way too attached to that old beanie. He would have to buy her another one so she'd stop nicking his.

"I'll go with you!" Max's response hit Alec a ton of bricks. "I feel like shooting a few rounds and knocking some beer back like the good old Jam Pony/Crash days." She came around the corner to face him, her hand clutching the house phone as she reached behind him with a wicked face and clicked it back into its charger.

"Uh, honey that would be great, but…" Alec raised his eyebrows dubiously, "the kids? I mean, we hang late out there…"

"Brac can cook the dinner like he was going to anyhow and Nyx can catch up on her maths work." Max batted away his excuse with a smile, "They're twelve and eleven, Alec. They can look out for themselves for a couple of hours."

Alec's grimace suggested that he didn't share his mate's generous viewpoint on their offspring. "Max uh, have you forgotten about…"

"You know you need to stop judging Brac by the past!" Max voiced the sentiment earnestly, as though gently reminding Alec that that measuring stick was not one he would like held against him. "He messed up _one_ time, and personally I still think you overreacted."

Alec's eyebrows plummeted. He didn't like it when Max accused him of overreacting…mainly due to the fact that he felt she really wasn't one to talk. It also didn't say much for his well-maintained devil-may-care attitude.

"Max, we _both_ decided that he wasn't gonna watch the boob tube for a month, okay? That was _your_ decision too."

"He downed _one_ of your beers, Alec. You were drinking three a night when you were his age!"

"No, _you_ were drinking three a night. I was back at Manticore getting the smack put down on my ass for stayin' up reading in the dark!" Alec snapped, and Max pressed her lips together tightly to squelch the acid words on the edge of her tongue.

Alec knew that look. It was Max's 'I'm not going to argue even though I'd love to, because I love you more' expression. He knew she hated it when he'd refer to that decade after '09. Somehow it hurt her to picture all the hell Alec had been put through because of Ben's escape and eventual demise.

He wished he hadn't said anything about it. But Brac had put his toe out of the very wide line that his parents had drawn out for him one too many times, even if they were just a steady stream of minor infractions instead of the occasional massive fob-up. And Alec was losing more and more of the trust he had placed in his son with each day that passed.

He sighed and then reached out, placing an arm around Max's shoulder's and planting an apologetic kiss on her forehead. "I'm sorry, Maxie."

She smiled, "It's okay. But now you'd better buy my drinks."

"Who were you callin', by the way?" Alec queried conversationally as he and Max strolled arm in arm down the dingy avenue which led to 'the pool hall'.

It was Mole's and Alec's personal haven- a musty garage that still reeked of gasoline and rubber which they had converted into a recreational hovel. Alec had scored the pool set, Mole had rummaged up the alcohol, and Stuff, who still found time to amble down and beat both men at the game whenever she could, had produced a wizened yet functional radio and twin set of speakers as her contribution to the hall.

The guest list to their world of mayhem was austere; Alec, Mole and Stuff. Oh, and Joshua and Luke were on occasion allowed entry if they promised to be a good audience. Max had only graced the place with her presence once, and it had been enough for her. But she had her suspicions about Alec's real motivation for heading there that evening – an evening which he usually spent in front of his beloved 'boob tube' watching the Thursday Smash Hits on MTV.

Brac always moaned about how unfair it was that Alec got his 'useless channels' when the ones that Brac was interested in had been conveniently wiped from the package deal.

It was his own dealio for taking a fancy to horror flicks.

"Max?" Alec looked down at her, "You okay?"

"Yeah." She nodded with a why-wouldn't-I-be expression.

Alec raised an eyebrow, "I just asked you who called before." He glanced with a frown at the flickering street light above them. The techies hadn't been doing their job nearly so efficiently, he noted. What was with people whining about their funding and then not coughing up results? Alec hoped it wasn't becoming a trend.

"Joshua phoned to say that Brac was planning on crashing at his place." Max's statement caught her mate's attention. Alec ignored the sputtering street light quite successfully all of a sudden.

"You said he was gonna be home to cook." Alec didn't mind his son staying at Joshua's for a night. But if it meant that Nyx was home alone…

"He is. I told Josh he had to be home by six." Max didn't seem bothered as they pulled up the dirty, graffiti-ridden grate and exposed the dingy 'pool hall'.

"Mm hmm, so he should be in now, right?" Alec stopped outside the doorway and pulled out his cell phone, tapping into his speed dial list and thumbing the call button.

"What are you doing?" Max queried with a bite to her tone which suggested she already knew.

"Checkin' in." Alec turned slightly to avoid the disapproving look Max was sending his way. She gripped his bicep a little harder then was necessary to recapture his attention.

"Alec, don't. You'll hurt him." Max whispered between gritted teeth, her eyes as pleading as they were firm.

He steeled himself to resist the deadly combination, "Aw, Max, I'll only hurt him if he's not where he's 'sposed to be."

"Ugh!" She groaned in frustration, stomping inside the pool hall, "You're a real piece of work, Alec!"

"So they tell me, sweetheart!" He smirked cockily after her, and then quickly turned away as the phone on the other end was answered.

"Hey Nyx, what's happenin'?" Alec rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling a little awkward. Why did he suddenly feel as dirty as the look Max had given him about doing this?

"…Yeah just callin' to make sure Brac got in alright." Alec pinched the bridge of his nose and sniffed, smiling and nodding as his daughter gave him an affirmation.

"…Alright I'll see you later then. Oh and remind Brac that you guys can't eat the pork rinds just cuz your mom's not in to smack you for it. You were both puking your guts out for three days last time you stole my junk food." Alec laughed at the memory. For some reason his kids couldn't handle crappy, processed foods very well. Maybe it was all the veggie mush that OC had shoved down their throats when they were babies.

"Right catch you later on, hon. Love ya." Alec hung up the phone and then pocketed it. He turned to stalk into the pool hall but then caught sight of Max engaged in an animated argument with Mole about the alignment of the snooker balls.

Alec smiled and then turned, slipping back into the alleyway and heading down the street. He would only be a few minutes.

Nyx McDowell hung up the phone and rolled her eyes as her brother attempted, for the third time in ten minutes, to reconnect their Internet. Brac had tried everything from switching their IP address to hacking into a nearby wireless connection.

Frustrated, he pushed himself away from the computer that their family shared and logged out of his user account.

"Damn thing's got a block the size of Hercules!"

"So pick up a book, pixel-freak, or make use of that cat DNA excuse of mine and go climb a tree!" Nyx retorted staunchly as she sank into the sofa with a faded copy of 'Les Miserables' in her hands. Nyx was hardly a worm when it came to books, but she was well-read, and prided herself at having a basic grasp of the classics. It gave her some ammo in any debate she and her brother would end up having about the ins and outs of Dickens and Scott, at least.

Brac scowled, "You're going to pay for that comment with soggy macaroni." He stalked over to the stove and checked on the pots frothing over the flame, silent for about the space of ten seconds before he belted out his ire once more.

"It's not fair!" Brac had a whine which was identical to Alec's – and equally as annoying to his mother. "One, over-eager freshmen gets his clammy mitts on Dix's keyboard and Terminal City gets awful small all of a sudden." He added another pinch of salt to the tomato sauce bubbling on the stove, "If this was Manticore, he'd be court-martialled!"

"So would you by now, for all your bitching." Nyx stated flatly, her eyes pinned to the latest heroic actions of Jean Valjean, but her lips twisted in a smirk that infuriated her brother.

Brac pursed his lips and narrowed his eyebrows, "What's so fucking funny?"

"The ranting of a deprived and despairing transgenic adolescent," Nyx finally allowed herself a token snigger, "And watch your language or I'm ratting you out to Dad. You know he hates it when you swear."

"I hate it when he uses my towel when his is in the wash." Was Brac's stony response, "Does he still do it?" He sprinkled some oregano into the sauce carefully. The spice was a precious commodity. "Every second Friday!"

"And I'm sure if you presented him with that argument, he'd let you stand with your hands behind your back and mouth off dirt while he used your towel." Nyx was laughing heartily at the mental picture of Alec drying off with Brac's beloved Tiger print towel while his son spouted out all the crap words he knew. Her mother would love that.

Nyx was laughing so loud, rolling on the sofa and gasping for breath. She didn't hear the door click open and shut quietly.

X6 – 792 – or Clack as he had been named by his cyber buddies - looked up sharply from where he had been bent over a beat-up Mac for the last two hours. He had distinctly heard a rummaging in the boxes and crates that were stacked against the filthy bay windows of the basement apartment that Dix had holed him up in.

The youth had been in there for almost two days now, living off corned beef and canned vegetables. He wouldn't have cared if he'd had to catch and eat some of the rodents that kept showing up.

Anything to avoid the retribution of X5 – 494.

792 had been told that the X5 should be his primary concern after the mess-up he had created. After all, Operation Hurst may have been Dix's pet project, but it was 494's… or Alec's…investment, and Clack had been eager to comply with Dix's every order if it meant he could somehow weather out the storm.

"Stand up." The voice was quiet and deadly. It could have been someone else…another male X5. Clack wasn't going to stake his life on that assumption however.

The X6 complied, his breath shaky as he did so.

"So you're the kid who nearly got our asses caught tryin' to play the hero." The voice went deeper and raspier, "You cost me a pretty buck, 792."

"I…" the words caught in Clack's throat and he forced them out regardless, "I'm sorry, Sir. I swear I didn't mean…" He fought the desperate urge to turn around, "I didn't think that was going to happen."

"Clearly." The voice dripped with sarcasm, "And yet, here we are. Bet you didn't think this was gonna happen either."

Before Clack could whirl around, he felt the vicious blow from a potent fist cuff him in the side of the head. He fell, knocking his Mac laptop to the ground with a clatter as he did so.

Mercifully, at this point 'Clack' fizzed out and X6 - 792 kicked in, and he shook his head to clear it from the punch as he rose onto his palms, scissoring his legs to knock the feet out from under his CO. But his boots met with thin air, and shortly after his ribs met with a nasty kick followed by a twin of its kind. 792 wheezed and reached out to grab the leg next time around, but it never came.

Instead a vice-like pair of arms wrapped themselves around his throat in a vice-like headlock, and strong fingers clamped over 792's trachea. The boy choked and gasped for air, struggling in the grip of his merciless attacker.

"No I think you knew this was going to happen." The voice's was hoarse and panting with the exertion of the force expended to cut off 792's air supply. "I should break your neck right now, you miserable fuck."

"Please…" 792 gasped between wheezes as his vision began to fade and his lungs threatened to burst. His desperate thrashing was weakening as well.

"Or I could let you suffer first!" With those words, the hand relaxed its hold slightly and then tightened harder then before, prompting a groan of pain from the terrified X6.

"I could do that to you for a day and a night to remind you to keep in your goddamn place." The hand then released 792 fully, and he gasped in large gulps of the stale basement air.

"But that would be a waste of energy." 494 was standing up. 792 could hear his boots scuffing lightly on the ground. "I'm considering this a lesson learned."

"This was not my fault, Max!" Alec insisted for the fifth time as they entered the apartment without bothering to knock. X5s never really needed to.

"And how was it not your fault, Alec?" Max retorted scathingly, "Did Clack just jump you out of nowhere while you happened to be 'getting down' in Dix's basement and your soldierly reflexes inflicted throat injuries instead of a good ol' Manticore uppercut?" She shook off her leather jacket and hung it on the rack, "You were the one that called in the doc, Alec- if nothing else you have to admit all roads lead to Rome!"

Alec gave his mate a befuddled expression, "How does Rome fit into any of this?"

"Rome is _you_, Alec, and that smart-ass mouth of yours isn't helping me keep Dix off your back!" Max responded shortly as she stormed into the kitchen, her night-vision guiding her to the sink and a glass. The kids had parlayed a bargain and switched the lights off when they'd hit the sack, Max reckoned. Brac hated any sort of luminosity when he slept. Nyx still resisted the urge to climb into Max and Alec's bed when TC's blackouts robbed her of her nightlight. The siblings were like night and day, quite literally.

Which one was Brac though? Max didn't want to think about it. Besides, she had other things on her mind.

"Look, I'm not gonna lie to you, Max – I went to give the kid a dressing-down. But I would _never_ have laid a finger on him!" Alec's voice whispered behind her, sounding hurt and frustrated that the woman he'd loved for years, whose children he had fathered and raised, could honestly believe that he would be so petty.

"Then who did?" was Max's next question from between sips of water, and Alec let out something akin to a growl as he picked up the salt shaker and spatula which still lay on the counter and holed them in their perspective dwelling spots.

"I don't know, but believe me, Maxie, I'm gonna find out." He opened the trash can and tied up the garbage bag, "And when I do, I'm gonna kick their…"

"Can you two put a muzzle on it?" A sleepy, indignant voice sounded from the hallway, and Alec and Max's emerald vision picked up their son standing in his boxers and a tank top, the feline DNA in his eyes making them glisten with more then just irritation.

"And you moan about me picking the lock when I come home!" Brac tutted at them mockingly.

"That's cuz you're scared of us findin' out you showed up two hours past curfew!" Alec reminded him in a whisper which had been involuntarily brought on by the scolding he'd received not two seconds before. "Why ain't you sleeping anyhow?"

"Because genetically-enhanced hearing's a real bitch." Brac barked in retort.

"Because we woke him up." Max informed her mate, nipping what had the potential to escalate into one of her boys' father-son spats in the bud. "Sorry, Brac. We'll try to be quieter, I guess."

Brac's sharp eyes softened as he looked at his mom, "Forget it." He responded dismissively, before he turned and disappeared back into the hallway.

Alec blew out his breath and rolled his eyes, but the combined actions of disapproval were the extent of his reaction to his son at the moment. Max was thankful for that. The last thing she needed was for Alec to go changing the subject on her and weasel out of the limelight by shining it on Brac.

Max slugged herself mentally. Whatever issues Alec was presently finding challenging in his relationship with his boy, Max knew Alec loved Brac way too much to ever get down on him for anything Alec didn't honestly feel was wrong.

Max' s train of thought was interrupted as she felt Alec's breath on her cheek, his warm, strong arms wrapped around her waist and his lips brushing against her skin.

"Maxie? Do you still love me?"

She smiled at the stupidity of the question as she turned to explore her mate's mouth with her tongue, "Of course."

The two X5s lay under the sheets, their perfect transgenic bodies fitting snugly together like a two piece puzzle as they slept, exhausted from more then just their late arrival home.

The dreary wind that had lashed Terminal City for the past few months whipped relentlessly at their window panes with an eerie howling sound that never failed to disturb Max's sleep with its persistence. She opened her eyes and they immediately darkened with irritation at the gloomy weather that seemed bent on reminding her continuously of its presence.

Max hated cold weather and all of its accompanying woes. She didn't like the effect it seemed to have on people. One too many rude-ass customers and slammed doors during her Jam Pony days had sort of clinched it for her. She sat up, gently untangling herself from Alec's embrace as she dressed and paused every now and then to scowl threateningly at the dark clouds looming over TC.

No way was it going to rain today, she thought to herself as she clenched her fists and involuntarily resumed a cautious circling stance as she did so.

A chuckle from the bed made Max jump, and she cringed, trying not to look as stupid as she felt at Alec having caught her pulling such a stunt. Instead she grabbed his boot and threw it at him with a playful growl.

"Shut up, Alec!"

"Ow!" He was still laughing, "Maxie, why you even feel the need to spar with imaginary enemies while I'm apparently still your punch bag is a nut I just can't crack!"

"I was thinking about the weather." Max responded sharply, throwing one an undershirt and then grabbing up one of Alec's sweaters from his closet. She threw him a questioning raise of the eyebrows, and he responded with a smirk.

"Do I get to wear one of yours?"

Max gave him a withering scowl, "If you can fit one, you fool." She pulled the dark, heavy jumper over head, pausing momentarily to savour the musky tang of Alec's cologne – and the equally arousing scent of his body – that lingered at the collar.

"So what's the plan for today?" Max was more thinking aloud then actually soliciting Alec's opinion, and he knew it. The X5's smirk widened as he responded from his position stretching his arms above his head.

"Well, you make me breakfast, then ship the kids off to Gem's crèche. Then we could…"

"I was thinking since Friday's about as close to a day off as you get with Mole breathing down your neck, you could pay X6 – 792 'Clack' a little visit and get down to the brass tacks of this whole affair!" Max ignored the groan that Alec muffled into the pillow as she pulled on her trousers and shoved her feet into her house shoes.

"I'd almost forgotten about that." He growled at her tersely, "Damn it Max, why is this my problem?" Alec was out of bed now, any chances at sleep thoroughly shattered by the unpleasant thoughts last night's events were now pumping through his head.

"I just don't get why…" Alec's moaning was cut short by a timid knock on their door. He hastily buckled the belt of his pants and then nodded at Max, who reached out and opened the door.

Nyx was standing there, still in her favourite green bathrobe and those ridiculous moccasin comfort boots she loved so much. Her forehead was creased with a tentative expression which signified her unease at having to interrupt her parents' precious hours of extra sleep. Nyx hated doing that – which meant that whatever she had to say was really urgent.

"Sorry to barge in so early, you guys…" The young girl began hesitantly, and Alec waved a hand at his daughter in a none-of-that fashion.

"We were already up, as you can see."

"What's up?" Max queried, purposefully switching her cross-armed stance for a less menacing arm-swing.

Nyx crinkled her nose, "I hate to be the rat-out here, but…Brac's gone. And he hasn't just stepped out to the corner store either."

"What do you mean?" Max furrowed her eyebrows, and she would have found the involuntary reaction of her hand straying to her motorcycle keys on the desk amusing if she hadn't been so focused on her daughter's words that she didn't even notice Alec's hand doing the exact same thing.

"His backpack's gone." Nyx shrugged, "I dunno how I missed him leaving. Guess my senses aren't in full swing." She added the last part somewhat wistfully.

Alec fed himself a mental roundhouse kick to the head for having developed the habit of sleeping so deep that a mouse's breathing wouldn't wake him up anymore. It was a trait he'd picked up during all those nights when the baby would scream and it was Max's shift. Now it was the very thing that was preventing him from keeping the said baby safe and out of trouble.

That thought irked the X5 immensely.

"Don't sweat it." Max was attempting to soothe her daughter's ruffled nerves as she pulled on her biking gloves and then placed a hand on Nyx's arm, "I know he'll be back soon enough."

"Yeah well I'm not waitin' around." Alec spoke the words matter-of-factly as he zipped up his sweater and grabbed up his keys.

"Alec," Max said softly, a warning ringing in her tone, "I'm sure there's nothing to worry about."

"Uh huh," He was ignoring her entirely, Max knew, as he pulled on his shoes and threw on his jacket. Max seethed as Alec turned and stalked out the door, pausing to plant a quick kiss on Nyx's head.

"Call me if he shows up before I find him."

"Alec!" Max stormed after him with a scathing glare on her face, "Wait!" She froze as she nearly bumped into the object of her ire's broad back. Alec had stopped dead in his tracks.

Brac was kicking off his soggy shoes and shaking the rain out of his jacket as he pushed the door closed behind him. The truant youth barely threw his parents a cursory nod as he wiped some droplets from his face and dragged his feet through the front room.

Max had always thought it was weird how soaking wet X5s always resembled a dripping wet cat. She'd dropped it in conversation with Alec one time, and he'd obligingly put it down to feline DNA.

The brilliant glare in Alec's bright green eyes suggested that at present, he was thinking nothing of the sort.

Her mate's jaw was clenched in the sort of way it usually set itself when he was ready for a fight.

"Ugh it's pissing rain out there." Brac murmured as he ambled into the kitchen and flipped on the water kettle.

"You plan on tellin' us next time you get the urge to…" That nasty, sarcastic smirk of Alec's was in full bloom as he waved a hand breezily, "Hit the hoods for an hour or two?"

Brac raised an eyebrow and shrugged, dipping a teaspoon into the coffee container – well it wasn't _the_ container, it was _Max's_ container of Brazilian blend which she had gone to great lengths to score.

Max glanced, truly worried, from her mate to their son. She had never felt so confused, not in this way at any rate. Why was Brac acting this way? He was practically _begging_ his parents to take him out.

"Felt like a morning jog." Brac was pouring the steaming kettle water into a mug – Alec's mug, his mother noted. "Had this sudden recollection that back at Manticore you used to carry your packs when you ran a mile. It's an adrenalin rush, for sure, though it's gonna take me a while to get used to it."

"I got this real sneaking suspicion you ain't goin' anywhere anytime soon, buddy." Alec responded, and Max felt a cold tingle down her spine at his tone. It reminded her too much of Ben's voice – the way her brother had spoken to her about how his beliefs in the Blue Lady justified all the lives that he had taken.

"Damn right about that," Brac responded, the sniffle which followed his statement suggesting that the X5 had caught something worse then a nasty attitude during his morning jog – if that was possible. "This downpour is gonna put a serious hamper on any outdoor activity for the next couple of days. Speakin' of which, Mom, I hope you don't have anything planned for today that involves me, cuz I got a tip-off about a quality spar downtown…"

"Maybe you didn't catch my drift, kid – you're grounded." Alec interjected ruthlessly, the grim smirk still pasted to his face. "And the next time you feel like bein' a smart-ass and giving your mother a heart-attack, don't."

Brac narrowed his eyes and set down his mug, looking his father square in the eyes. Max could smell the testosterone in the air – the scent of a young hotshot challenging an alpha male X5.

She fought with everything in her to remain calm. She would take them both out if she had to. Max was not going to watch her boys take this feud to the mat.

"Brac, that's your cue to beat it." Max spoke, trying to hide the pained look that she knew was creeping over her features. She and Alec had talked many times about the importance of supporting one another in their individual parenting of their children. Max had always assumed that she would be the stringent one of the pair. But Alec's cocky, come-what-may veneer held a soldier beneath it, and she wasn't happy about the fact that he was now the only one able to deal with Brac's temper tantrums since their boy had become an adolescent.

Brac's lips curled up in a snarl and he started forward. Alec remained standing where he was, but Max caught onto the fact that his powerful muscles had tightened and his knees had changed angles ever so slightly. He watched his son stalked purposefully towards him, fists balled by his sides. Still he didn't move.

Max felt a flutter of consternation course through her as Brac shoved past his father rudely, slamming his shoulder against Alec's with a force that actually moved her mate's torso back a couple of inches. Brac stormed into his room and slammed the door so hard that the dishes in the cupboard rattled.

Alec was still standing there, but any traces of a smirk had vanished. Instead there was a patient yet agitated purse about his lips, and he raised an eyebrow at Max imploringly.

"Maxie, I'd really like some coffee!"

She shook her head at his flippancy and handed him the steaming mug that Brac had just whipped up, "Here – I'm sure it's just the way you like it."

With those words, Max headed back into the master bedroom, leaving Alec to sample his son's coffee-making skills.

Alec rolled his eyes and muttered out a mimic of his mate's last statement, before glancing nonchalantly around and then hazarding a sip of the coffee. He jutted out his lower lip with a grin, "Not bad at all."

"Had to have been you, 494, is all I'm saying!" Dix had grown as weary of repeating the sentiment as Alec had grown of hearing it.

"Clack's account was very descriptive – says his attacker used dialogue and fighting techniques identical to yours."

"But he didn't _see_ me." Alec reminded the nomalie tersely with a stab of his finger to emphasize his point, and Dix rolled his eyes.

"He says it was dark and you were way too fast anyway. He didn't even get one clean swipe at you." Dix turned to his computer to answer a distressing bleep which it had squeaked out at him, "Says the meeting he had with you only served to back up his point."

Alec growled. He should have known the audience with 792 would go sideways. The kid was still in bed and talking with a rasp. Still, that didn't change what was what. 'Clack' would have to deal with that.

"Look, give me somethin' to work with here, Dix ol' buddy. What is it that you're wanting from me out of all this?"

"Nothing but watching you chow down some real humble pie, to be blunt and honest with ya." Dix replied shortly as his index finger guided his mouse lovingly through its software maze, "You X5s can be so damn cocky so damn often I'd just love to see one week when Smart-Alec McDowell descends to our level!"

"I can't believe you still think I'm a sass, Dix, after all I've been and done for you!" Alec frowned reprovingly, "You remember that time with the codes…"

"Would you stop referring to that, Alec? You maxed out it's 'good graces' account a long time ago!"

"Fine."

Alec's scowl was still as lucid when he left the building as it had been when he'd arrived. His head was swimming and his stomach was growling in an angry manner. Alec wanted nothing more then to head home and whoof down one of Brac's to-die-for short stacks with a pitcher of cream and a bowl of el-cheapo chocolate sauce.

Wait, he'd just grounded Brac. Alec would have to make his own pancakes this morning if he knew his son.

Pancakes. God, he was hungry. What time was it anyway? Alec was getting increasingly frustrated about the fact that he would probably end up spending the one day off he had traipsing around TC trying to find out who was swaggering around impersonating him.

Whoever they were, if they pulled it off as good as Clack attested, they must be getting some damn fine lays….

Alec shrugged the thought from his mind irritably. Instead he cruised his motorbike through TC's winding alleyways, pulling to a stop at the sideline where he had found the basement.

Still grumbling to himself a little louder then he usually did, Alec swung off his bike, locked it up and then did a sweep of the area for clues. There were old garbage cans that looked like they hadn't been emptied in a year – darned waste-disposal slackers…he'd look into having their funding downsized – and graffiti-covered surfaces just about everywhere Alec looked. But nothing of value that would give away the identity of his potential impersonator…and he'd already checked the basement.

"This is really stupid," Alec muttered in a singsong voice, digging his hands into his pockets and kicking out at a Pepsi can near his feet. It flew and clanged off a garbage can, and as it did so, the dreary sunlight which was beginning to peep through the clouds reflected sharply off something.

Alec winced against the flare but as it died down, he ambled over to the spot and felt around for the reflective object. Sure enough, he found it – a small yet gaudy imitation diamond ear stud.

Alec's lips tightened into a thin line and his brow furrowed sharply as he crouched down and examined the tiny earring between his fingers. It bore an uncanny resemblance to the one Brac had insisted on sporting since he turned twelve. Max had hated it with a vengeance, declaring that it made him look like a football icon. Alec hadn't thought it quite as horrid, but had merely suggested to Brac that he refrain from wearing it around his mom.

That was trivia wholly lost to Alec's mind right then. All his X5 brain could do was flash back sharply to his son's angry visage earlier that morning. Alec strained to recall whether the offending item had been present to witness their little family spat.

And then he remembered. It hadn't.

Max glanced up with relief as Alec came striding through the doorway. She and Nyx smiled at him from behind the food they'd managed to rustle up for lunch – store-bought sandwiches and microwave chicken pasta. Normally Alec would have snickered and made a cutting remark before making up for his insolence by cooking his girls some 'real food'.

Today he wasn't even thinking about any of that. His face was set determinedly, his shoulders squared as he stalked into the house and took off his jacket with a heavy sigh.

That sigh was enough to move Max from her seat and onto Alec's arm.

"Everything okay?" She queried softly, and Alec tilted up his head grimly.

"I need you to do somethin' for me, Maxie. More importantly, somethin' for Brac."

Max narrowed her eyebrows quizzically, but her expression and the look in her large, brown eyes was speaking the word 'anything'.

Alec looked down at his mate, his face still drawn over with a deadpan blanket.

"I need you and Nyx to walk away right about now."

Brac's head shot up only seconds after his nose picked up an all-too familiar scent outside his door. He hazarded one last glance at the scrawls he had been etching in his notebook. The three words had been burning up his mind, and the boy had been hard-pressed to keep from scrawling them on every available surface he'd come across.

Duty. Mission. Discipline.

His uncle Ben's driving motivation.

Brac was about to get a lesson in all three.

When Alec opened the door to his son's room, the boy was lying, arms crossed over is chest, stretching his growing limbs across the bed. An obnoxious scowl was featured prominently on Brac's pretty young face, and he raised an eyebrow as if to demand what right Alec had to be letting himself in without knocking.

Alec would let him know a whole lot more then that about exactly what rights a father had to his kid – especially when they as good as framed him and pissed him off.

"Get up." Alec's tone was flat, soldierly. "You have a choice – the court or the yard."

Brac's eyebrow fell. One look at the glint in his dad's green eyes informed him that his secret was indeed out on the table. Alec was pissed like hell, his son knew – everything about his stance was oozing with displeasure. The gaze the X5 was sending the kid's way was making the man's intentions inescapably clear.

Alec was going to spar with Brac. And the latter wasn't sure how merciful his father was planning on being.

"Why don't you just cuss me out and get it over with?" Brac's whining was rolling off of Alec the way his own rolled off of Max. The X5 stood a good six feet away from his son on the rubber/concrete turf of their apartment complexes' basketball court. It was rarely in use, and Alec was fairly confident that their match wouldn't be interrupted by a crowd of hoodies dribbling balls any time soon.

What he wasn't as certain about was exactly how many falls he wanted Brac to be taking on the hard-tack floor. Alec had been knocked down there once during a game two years ago, and had ended up with a fractured wrist. He'd healed up quickly enough – X-series' just had that little knack about them.

Still, it had hurt like hell.

Alec hadn't known where the idea of sparring with his son to teach him a much-needed set of lessons had cropped into his head at first. But then he had remembered – of course. Colonel Lydecker had used the method on Alec back at Manticore when he was a little younger then Brac. A lithe, fast and deadly strong X5 a substantial amount older then Alec had carefully, methodically beaten the crap out of him both physically and verbally – each blow had come with a statement reminding Alec of his error and instilling in him the proper conduct that was expected in the future.

Alec had never forgotten the lesson.

He frowned as he assumed a defensive fighting stance. Alec's only crime had been mouthing off to Deck one too many times. Brac had gone AWOL and committed an offence which had not only endangered him and his reputation, but that of his father's and his entire family's to boot… not to mention put 792 in recoup for a week. And if he was sorry, he damn well wasn't showing it.

Alec would go a hell of a lot easier on Brac then X5 – 441 had gone on him, of course. But the punishment had left a lasting reminder in the mind of the young, cocky 494 of the consequences of inane – and frankly, in Brac's case, stupid – behaviour. If it would do even half of that for his wayward son, Alec was willing to take the risk.

"Just shut up and start fighting." He spoke the words through a grimly-grit jaw.

Max was worried. How could she not be? Alec was most likely mopping the floor with her son as she thought. Max had only seen that glint in Alec's eyes when he was about to begin – or was in the process of- kicking someone's ass.

"Mom, it'll be fine." Nyx's sincere statement and the pat on the back that followed it did nothing to ease Max's turmoil of mind. "Dad's probably just got him strung up in the coat rack having another one of their 'chats'!"

"I'm alright, Nyx." Max wished the words hadn't sounded as forced as they really were – but they had.

Nyx shrugged with a smile, "Suit yourself then, but remember I'm here as moral support." She took a swig of the juice Max had ordered for her and nodded at the half-cat bartender.

Max didn't know how her daughter always managed to stay so optimistic even in the face of blatant trouble. It was most likely a thread from Alec's genetic webwork – the ability to ignore a shitty thing even when it was staring you in the face if you didn't care for the way it was doing it.

Still, she had to admire the little girl's breezy mannerism. It was bound to rub off on Max sooner or later in the same way that Alec's did.

"I'm in the mood to shoot some pool. You feeling up to it?" Max smacked the counter with a heavy dose of exuberance, and Nyx's eyes brightened.

"Sounds like a plan!"

Alec's fist were held up loosely to his chest as Brac began to circle him, the boy's sharp eyes searching for a weak spot where he could strike.

Alec was getting annoyed. The kid had been doing that for the past three minutes. "If you don't attack, I will."

"Go for it!" his son's eyes never left Alec as the boy took up a defensive stance, fists balled up to his chest.

Alec sighed through his nose and then struck out, clearing the distance between the two in one second. He caught the fist which Brac had swung out at his face and twisted it down sharply, bringing the kid down as Alec kicked out and knocked his legs from under him.

Brac recovered quickly, somersaulting his feet into Alec's knees and throwing his father off-balance as he rolled into a standing position. Alec used the momentum of the kick to spring forward once more, hooking a flurry of well-placed blows to Brac's torso. Brac stumbled back, blind fury glistening in his dark green eyes as he blocked an incoming punch to his solar plexus only to feel the full force of a kick to his side.

Alec was moving with all the feline grace his genetics allowed him, although it was clear that he was holding himself back from unleashing the full throttle of his lethal ability. Still, he wasn't completely pulling his punches either.

Alec intercepted the whirling pair of crescent kicks that Brac jumped out at him with, ducking under one and leaping over the other to land sharply behind the boy and grab the fist that he was already swinging in Alec's direction. Alec yanked Brac's arm behind his back and clamped his other shoulder in a vice-grip, sweeping his feet out from under him and bending him far enough back that his father's knee in the hollow of his back was the only thing keeping the struggling teenager from hitting the tarmac. A strong hand clamped around Brac's trachea, and he felt the air leave him with a painful rush.

"Lesson one;" Alec's voice was shaking only slightly from the exertion as he spoke huskily into his son's ear, "Strangulation hurts like the dickens!"

He released Brac onto the floor, and the boy panted only for a moment before throwing his weight on his palms and flipping into a twist, a solid boot catching Alec in the stomach and throwing him back a metre or two.

Brac was on his feet now, circling Alec with a vicious glint in his eye. He was doubled over slightly from the pummelling his ribs had taken, but his stride was sharp as ever as he lashed out again, throwing a series of uppercuts and sidejabs Alec's way, most of which were blocked as his father danced around his left side and grabbed the boy's arm next time it swung at his shoulder.

Alec flipped Brac clear over his head and into a dizzying spiral which landed him on the ground with a thud. Brac's jaw clenched but before he could finish shoving out the kick he had started, Alec was on top of him, pinning his body to the ground and twisting his arms behind his back, clamping them together at a certain pressure point which Brac had never known existed before – but was very uncomfortable nonetheless.

"Lesson two;" Alec's finger pushed down harder on the spot, and Brac couldn't stop the moan that escaped his lips, "What may seem like a little thing to you can hurt a lot of people just the same."

Alec jumped off his son and then stood over him as Brac peeled himself off the asphalt. He was flushed, Alec noted, and breathing heavily, sweat pouring down his forehead.

"I'm done with this shit!" Brac spat as he stood up and wiped his forehead on his arm.

"Not if I can help it." Alec's tone was firm, "You've still got lessons three and four."

Brac shook his head vehemently, "I'm done." He turned and began to stalk off the court, but Alec's hand was on his shoulder and his fist in the hollow of his back in an instant. Brac was flat on his back once more, and he flip-kicked up with an angry scowl, rubbing his shoulder blades with a smouldering expression.

Alec raised his eyebrows, "_I'll_ say when we're done here, kid."

"Like hell!" Brac snarled, and then blurred, making a dash for the gate. He was fast, but not as fast as Alec. The far superior X5 was intercepting Brac's retreat path before he'd even decided on one, and Alec's open-handed blow caught him smack in the jaw with a stinging force that sent him skidding back a good five feet.

Alec shrugged at the boy with a raise of his eyebrows, "Lesson three; you can't just walk away from the consequences of somethin' you've done."

Brac felt the blood on his lip from where one of Alec's fingers had caught him and then glanced up at the man with a snarl, "Does Mom know 'bout this?"

"Mom knows you messed 792 up pretty bad for no other reason then your goddamned Internet connection. 'nough said?" Alec's tone was harsh, and he could see it had struck home as Brac's brow flickered slightly.

"Dad, it wasn't like that."

"You wanna tell me what it _was_ like, Brac?" Alec's sarcastic smirk was back for a moment, "Or do I really want to stand around and hear your excuses for workin' the kid over?"

"_He_ worked _us_ over!" Brac almost whimpered, fingering a bruise that was beginning to form on his jaw, "He put all of Terminal City at risk and you didn't lift a goddamned finger!"

"Brac, you're gonna need to learn to trust my judgement and the decisions I have to make when there's hundreds of people lookin' to me to make things right." Alec's fists had uncurled and were now tucked into the pockets of his trousers.

Bract seemed to have bitten the bullet on the subject, although the glare that had smouldered in his green eyes had now morphed into a hardened veneer which was poorly masking the boy's hurt and confusion.

"Is that lesson 4?" He queried in a bitter tone as he crossed his arms, rubbing his hand over his bruised side as he did so. "Can I hit the showers now, Sergeant?"

Alec winced at the last word and shook his head, and then slowly, cautiously, he moved closer to Brac, his hands still shoved into his pockets. Brac flinched and took a step back, but he was thoroughly unprepared for the arm his father placed around his shoulders. Alec's strong, reassuring embrace enveloped his son, and the tension that had hung in the air so thick a knife wouldn't cut it was now melting away.

"No matter how badly you screw you up, kid, Maxie and I will always love you and never stop bein' here for you." Alec spoke the words quietly but with emotion as he ran a hand over his boy's tousled blonde hair. "Lesson 4."

TO BE CONTINUED


End file.
